


Rest & Revivification

by IncomingAlbatross



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: (Dipper wasn't supposed to be either he just . . . snuck his way in), (sorry you're not in the relationship tags Mabel), Episode: s02e01 Scaryoke, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Missing Scene, Stanuary, zombie Soos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-19 17:31:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17605778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncomingAlbatross/pseuds/IncomingAlbatross
Summary: In which Soos became a zombie and is somehow probablystillthe least disturbed/traumatized person involved. Before and after being cured.Fairly light, quite fluffy post-Scaryoke oneshot for Stanuary Week Four: Comfort. Ended up a bit more Soos-centered than I expected, but I think it still qualifies!





	Rest & Revivification

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: The two known ingredients for the zombie cure in the Journal--formaldehyde and cinnamon-- _both_ have a history with embalming. (Formaldehyde's being more recent than cinnamon's, sure, but still.) Not really relevant, just something I learned while writing this.

Soos really wanted brains.

Like,  _really_  really. Now, he was used to getting food cravings out of nowhere sometimes, but this took it to a whole new level. He didn't even know what brains tasted like--he was thinking maybe like that pink frosting that they had on store-bought cupcakes, in those big swirly mounds?--but even so, somehow he  _knew_  they'd hit the spot. Apparently that was a zombie instinct? He'd always kinda wondered what made them so set on brains from the start, but from this side of things it made  _so much sense_  now.

And there were three brains right in the  _room_  with him now (not counting his own, heh--did zombies even  _have_  brains, as such? Hm. An intriguing question), practically within arms' reach. And none of them were helping at  _all!_

He eyed the Pineses speculatively from inside his makeshift furniture-barricade (they'd built it around him in the corner of his break room). Mabel was sitting on the floor, squinting in concentration as she mixed something up in a big bowl, and Dipper was reading some kind of recipe out of his big Weirdness Book while he sat next to her. Neither of them was in reach, but they were only, like, ten feet away! Sneakily, eyes, narrowed, he began tiptoeing toward them. If he could just get past this impenetrable barrier . . .

"Quit it, Soos!" Something smacked him in the face--not hard enough to hurt, really, but hard enough to make him stumble backwards a step.

He rubbed his cheek, looking reproachfully at Mr. Pines. "Aw, c'mon, dude!"

"Don't 'c'mon, dude' me, Soos," his boss said, pointing the broom threateningly at him. "I  _told_  you, stay in your own corner." The broom was a smart idea, Soos admitted (well,  _obviously,_ it was Mr. Pines's idea), because it meant he could keep Soos back without getting into bitey-range. Which worked for them, at least--it really stunk for Soos, but for some reason everyone  _else_  seemed really opposed to the whole eating-their-brains thing.

Which was really  _totally_  uncool. He respected other people's dietary preferences! Even when it was something like Mabel Juice, or Dipper's pens!

"Can't I even taste   _one_  of your brains, Mr. Pines?" he asked imploringly. "You gotta let me at least have a  _taste._ "

Mt. Pines just sighed, though. "We're  _using_  them, Soos," he said, rubbing his forehead with one hand. "Just . . . sit tight, this'll be over soon."

Soos deflated, looking dejectedly down at the floor. It wasn't  _fair._

"Hey, uh. You kids almost done with that?" Mr. Pines asked. "Because I'll be honest--seeing Soos moping because he can't devour our brains is getting really disturbing."

"Just a couple more steps, Grunkle Stan!" Dipper called, not looking up. "Then we can soak the, uh, dressing in the mixture, and we'll be good to go."

_"Dressing,"_  Mabel said with an entertained snort. "Soos isn't a salad!"

Soos chuckled. "Nope! Not unless salads want to eat brains. Though . . ." He stared into space. "Maybe they  _do."_  He contemplated that possibility for a moment, but his focus quickly drifted away.

Man . . . he  _really_  wanted to eat their brains.

His attention was pulled back to the present when the kids both scrambled to their feet--Mabel carrying her big bowl in both arms, Dipper clutching his book--and moved closer.

"Okay, we're done preparing," Dipper said, sounding nervous. "We're ready to dress the wound now . . . But, uh." He chewed his lip. "How do we  _do_  that?"

"Easy," Mr. Pines said decisively. "Here, gimme a second."

He started shoving the furniture in front of Soos forward, making less space between him and the wall. Soos tried to just stand there, but Mr. Pines was too strong and fast for him! He ended up trapped between the couch and the wall with one of his arms squished in front of him, and Mr. Pines leaning against the couch so he couldn't push it back. It was like he was the filling in a Zombie!Soos sandwich.

"There," Mr. Pines said. "Immobilized."

Dipper, however, did not seem too reassured. "The arm we need to work on is still free, though . . ."

"Hmph." Stan stared at Soos for a second. Then he moved forward quickly, kneeling on the couch itself and grabbing Soos's wrist in both hands before he could react properly.

"There, that work?"

"Uh . . . yeah. Don't let him bite you, though, Grunkle Stan!"

He snorted. "Please, kid. The day I can't beat Soos at arm-wrestling is the day I retire."

"Yeah . . . from  _life,_  if it turns out to be today."

"Would you get a move on already, ya smart aleck?"

Dipper shook himself. "Right!"

Hastily, he dragged a kitchen chair to Soos's side, putting his book carefully on the floor and then climbing up. Turning to Mabel for a moment, he lifted some kind of cloth pad out of her bowl and then placed it gently on Soos's arm--right over the zombie bite mark.

It  _hurt._

Soos hissed and tried to jerk away--he didn't know exactly what was on there, but  _oww!_  Stan held his arm steady, though, even when Soos tried to pull away from him.

"Mr.  _Pines,_ " he whined, wriggling. "It  _hurts,_  dude."

"Aw, geez," he muttered. "Dipper, hurry it up a little?" There was a fierce scowl on his face, like the time he'd gotten a toolbox dropped on his toes (totally Soos's bad), and hadn't let himself yell  _at all_  because there were a bunch of tourists in the next room.

"Yeah--yeah, of course." Dipper adjusted the pad a little (-- _ow ow ow--_ ) then put both his hands over it, taking a deep breath. "Mabel? I need you to read along and tell me if I get the spell wrong."

"You got it, bro!"

Dipper started chanting something in Latin, and Soos thought the cloth started glowing? He didn't know for sure, though, because at the exact same time the pain got  _worse_ _._

It started spreading from the bite through the rest of his body, suddenly, like a million little threads of fire. And then it felt like something was being  _pulled_  all through him, like the threads were being yanked back out, but now they felt less like fire and more like they'd been barbed before going into him _._

"Ow, ow, ow ow ow  _ow--"_  He writhed, trying to get away from the Awful Thing on his arm. Dipper just kept  _chanting,_  and he had to make it  _stop_ \--

"Soos!" his boss barked. He froze. "Stay  _still_. That's an order, y'hear me?"

But--but--but it hurt  _a lot!_

But Mr. Pines was  _ordering_ him, and there was always a good reason for orders given in his Serious Voice . . .

He paused, confused--and then the pain was gone, leaving him just feeling all hot and shaky and tired.

He sagged, feeling Mr. Pines give him just enough slack to drop his arm, and looked over to see Dipper jerk the pad away and toss it to the floor with a pale, disgusted face. (To be fair, the pad looked really gross now. It was all green and brown and . . . oozy.)

And then Dipper turned to look at him, eyes wide. "Soos?" he asked, voice even higher than usual. "Are you  _you_  now?"

Soos blinked. "Um . . . yes? That's a really deep question, though, dude . . ."

"See if you want to eat our brains," Mabel interrupted from the floor.

"Uhh . . ." He pondered the idea. "Nope." Then he blinked. "Oh,  _dude_. I totally tried to eat you guys's brains! Aw, man.  _So_ not cool, Soos."

"Yes!" Mabel cheered, and Dipper's face lit up with a relieved grin.

"That's okay, Soos, it wasn't your fault," he said in a rush. "I'm just . . . really glad you're okay."

"Aw, thanks, little dude," Soos told him. ". . . Still weird that I was thinking about eating you a few minutes ago, though."

It was really weird. And kinda gross, now that he was un-zombified again. He didn't like realizing how  _normal_  it had seemed to eat his friends' brains . . .

He shuddered, and then realized he was still trapped. "Uh, could I get out now? Mr. Pines?" He looked over to him.

Stan blinked when he met Soos's eyes, then let go of his arm and hastily backed away from the couch. "Yeah, sure. Welcome back, I guess?"

"Thanks, Mr. Pines!" he said happily, as he pushed the sofa away. "I'm glad to be 100% alive again!"

"Same here," his boss said. "--I, uh . . . Because you've got a  _lot_  of work to do! Cleaning up the Shack after your zombie friends trashed the place."

Soos beamed at him. "Awesome. I will absolutely do that."

"Yeah, um . . ." Dipper rubbed his hands against his eyes. "What  _do_  we do next, Grunkle Stan?"

Stan looked hard at him for a second. "Sleep, kid. You've both been up all night--I mean, we all have, but kids are supposed to need sleep, right? And it's what, five-thirty now? Six o'clock? So yeah. Go sleep until a normal morning hour now, at least."

"But . . ." Dipper protested vaguely.

"The only 'buts' I wanna see are yours and your sister's in bed. You got a problem with that?"

Dipper hesitated, then shook his head. "Nope."

"I'm good too," Mabel agreed, with an impressively large yawn. "Night, Grunkle Stan. Or morning, I guess?" She giggled. "Staying up until dawn is  _weird._ "

"Yeah, yeah. Get going, you little gremlins."

"Mkay. See you, Grunkle Stan, see you Soos! I'm glad no one's dead." And with a final bright smile, she left the room for her bed.

Dipper lingered behind her, looking conflicted for a second. Then he shuffled forward and wrapped his arms around Stan's waist.

"Thanks, Grunkle Stan," he said quietly, voice muffled. "I'm sorry I was stupid. And that I didn't listen when you said to stop."

Mr. Pines stared at the top of his head, all open-mouthed and startled for a second. Then he huffed, smiling, and reached down to tousle Dipper's hat. "We all do dumb things, kid. The important thing is try'na fix them, right? And you did okay on that."

Dipper looked up, a surprised, shy smile on his face. "Really? . . . Thanks, Grunkle Stan."

Stan put an arm around him and squeezed for a second. "You're welcome. . . . Now go to sleep, you little nerd."

"Yeah, yeah, okay," Dipper said with an eyeroll, still smiling as he turned away. "I'm really glad you're okay, Soos--wait, did I already say that?"

Soos chuckled. "It's cool, dude. Thanks for fixing me up." He held out a fist. "Pterodactyl bros?"

Dipper grinned at him, bumping his fist with his own. "Pterodactyl bros forever, Soos."

And then he trudged upstairs, colliding slightly with the doorframe as he left the room.

Stan shook his head, watching him go. There was a peaceful silence in the air.

Then Soos yawned, a long and expansive yawn. When he opened his eyes again, Stan was looking at him.

"Yeesh, I guess you need sleep too. Being a zombie really takes all the  _life_ outta you, huh?" He chuckled, but trailed off awkwardly. "That was probably too soon."

"I am pretty tired, Mr. Pines," Soos admitted. "Didn't you want me to get to work on the Shack, though? I told Abuelita I didn't know when I'd be back, because of the party, so she shouldn't be worried or anything."

"Eh." Mr. Pines waved a hand. "Since this whole thing  _is_  kind of Dipper's fault, he should at least get a share in the cleanup. Until he and Mabel wake up, I might get some sleep myself. But--heck, you can nap in here, if you want. Less zombie goo in this room than in most of the place."

"Really?" Soos asked, just to make sure. Mr. Pines didn't  _usually_  approve of naptime for employees, no matter how hard Soos pushed the concept.

"Hey, if you do something stupid and get hurt because you were up all night being undead,  _I'm_  not gonna be held responsible." He paused a second. "And, frankly, that zombie cure looked . . . really painful. That probably took a lot out of you by itself, right? I don't want you trying to fix anything of mine when you're exhausted."

Soos considered this. "Yeah, it was pretty painful--though now that it's gone, I think most of what it took out of me was the zombie-ness!" He chuckled at his own joke. "But I do break more things when I'm tired, so that is probably a good point."

"All my points are good." Mr. Pines pushed him toward the couch. "Sleep. Sleep now, Soos."

"Okay, Mr. Pines. Good . . . morning, I guess? Heh. Mabel was right, staying up all night  _is_  weird." He paused. "Aw, man! People always say 'I'll sleep when I'm dead,' but I was dead and I didn't even  _get_  to sleep! Talk about a ripoff, am I right?"

But Mr. Pines didn't answer this time. And when Soos looked at him, he wasn't even rolling his eyes or smiling or anything, just . . . looking at Soos with a strange expression. To be more specific, he was doing that wide-eyed, tight-lipped thing that Soo was pretty sure only happened when his boss was having  _feelings,_  and trying not to.

Soos frowned, concerned. "Mr. Pines?"

And then Mr. Pines surged forward, and Soos found himself suddenly engulfed in the strongest, fiercest hug he'd ever had.

"I almost lost you tonight," Stan whispered in his ear. "Moses, kid . . ." His voice was trembling a little.

And then, before Soos could even really react, he pulled back and was three feet away again.

"Wow, look at that, you're so sleep-deprived you're probably having hallucinations already! I, uh, I've got . . . zombie dust in my eye, I'm gonna . . . deal with that." And he turned and fled.

Soos stood there for a little bit, beaming, before he remembered he was supposed to lie down. Even after curling up on the couch, though, his smile hadn't gone away.

It had been a crazy night. Yes, he'd gotten turned into a zombie, yes, he had tried to eat his friends' brains, and, yes . . . he knew there was a  _lot_  of work ahead of him tomorrow. On the other hand, it seemed like now things were pretty okay for everybody.  _And_  he'd just received the rare and elusive Stan Pines Hug!

"Truly," he murmured sleepily, holding a throw pillow against his chest, "today is looking to be a very good day."

**Author's Note:**

> And when everyone gets up, Soos will get to hear how Stan killed the zombie hordes with his fists and a baseball bat!!
> 
> I'm sure he'll be sorry he missed Love Patrol Alpha, though . . . at least, until someone realizes that if he'd been close enough to hear it, his skull would have exploded. Prooobably not worth it.


End file.
